Brenda walking along the Rhone photo by M. D. Hill

I love France. I enjoy it every season, but especially on a cold, gray and snowy day. Warm and sunny belongs on the beach. I like bundling up in mittens, scarf, my red wool beret, and boots to brave the elements. Then comes the joy of popping into a small cafe for coffee and one of those warm, flaky, buttery croissants. Or perhaps, a crock of onion soup, with the hot bubbling Gruyere and baguette crust on the top. This is the time for a glass of local Burgundy wine, and then, perhaps, a nap. Of course I am just dreaming of my old days in France with Henri at our castle near Chantilly.

On this trip Maralyn and I were up long before dawn, to leave for the tram, train and bus to the Sirha exposition. Once there, we walked about 5-10 miles a day viewing, interviewing, tasting and sipping the best cuisine in the world. Will I ever again drink the finest French champagne with a fresh briney oyster and caviar for breakfast?

Toni, Brenda, Mike, Maralyn - photo by M. D. Hill

The day of this photo was very special. We took a rare day off from The Bocuse de Or extravaganza. We had just finished a delightfully decadent 4 hour lunch at the elegant Le Bec with Mike and Toni Sottak from the Caribbean (they are living in France for a year). We new each other via emails and met in person for the first time at noon and were good friends by 4pm.

Maralyn and I decided to walk back to our hotel a few miles away. As we strolled along the Rhone River, we took photos of each other. We were simply so happy that we wanted to record the moment. We were finally acclimated or perhaps full enough to walk without hat, scarf or gloves. Even the pale sun peaked out before dusk. We looked up from our path and spotted our hotel, the tallest building in Lyon.

Instead of working on our computers, Maralyn went to bed and I had a long, hot soak in the large tub. Our plan was to sleep until early morning. Around 8 p.m. we both woke up and said simultaneously, “I’m hungry.” We dressed back into our woolies and set out to find a neighborhood bouchon. A Lyon bouchon means a small, typical, local restaurant with traditional Lyonnais cuisine. This quest found us devouring the best soufflé we ever tasted. This was one of the best days we ever enjoyed in France.